


strum my heartstrings

by moonlights0nata



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Music, Everyone is 20+ here, Fluff, It's a mix of Music and Bar AU, M/M, rating might change in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 14:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlights0nata/pseuds/moonlights0nata
Summary: “My name is Soulburner.” He strums his guitar once.  It echoes in the quiet, any leftover murmurs stopping, everyone’s eyes on him. He smirks.“And I’m here to set your hearts on fire.”--Takeru is an aspiring musician. His first performance at the Cafe Nagi brings forth a chance to grow and new meetings.





	strum my heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello ! So okay I've had this AU in my head for a while and I finally got something done for it. This first chapter is very long and very introductory, but I hope you'll enjoy Takeru's shenanigans in this story as much as I enjoy writing them so far~
> 
> I also hope I can work more on takeyusa in later chapters but there's other relationships I also want to develop in this AU...it'll be a fun ride I think !
> 
> ( Also kudos to my friend Egg for helping me decide the title askljkasd <3 )

Cafe Nagi is a cozy, small place in Den City, camouflaged by the neon signs of bigger, more ostentatious places in the neighbourhood. But if you know what you are looking for, walking straight from the plaza, crossing the street and going down a set of stairs, you’ll find another sign, a little worn out but brightly lit, above a sturdy looking wooden door.

By day, just as the name says, it’s a Cafe, and pushing past that door the smell of coffee and baked good will be the first thing you smell, the sound of music coming off a radio in the long counter set on the right. Tables are arranged along the wall at the back, and other round, smaller wooden tables are spread along the floor. It’s quiet, lit by a warm orange light, with usually few people dropping by, mostly regulars that have known the place for a while.

By night, though, is when things start to shift, and it plays the part of a Bar as well. On the left, the scenario that remains closed by day opens its curtains to offer a show; the music on the radio is silent and it lets artists take the live stage. This is when the place gets its most customers.

In such a place--with hands sweaty and pulse thrumming from nerves--is where Takeru finds himself tonight, watching the current band play while he’s holding his guitar case to his chest, sitting by the bar and waiting for his turn to be on that stage.

His first, live stage, with people watching him.

It’s not that he’s a complete stranger to playing for others; he’d done so plenty for his grandparents, for Kiku, sometimes even in plazas with more people, back in his hometown.

Music was and is his medium to express himself, a way to transmit emotions to others, to connect with a part of himself he’d once closed off to the world. Music had gifted him sounds and words to give form to feelings he hadn’t know what to do with. It is dear to him.

He’d been okay with small performances here and there in public spaces, as he tried to make his music career grow. At twenty three years old, he hasn’t done a whole lot of progress...until now, perhaps.

It’s the first time he will stand in an _scenario_.

“Takeru, you are making my chair move with your leg bouncing.” Kiku, his best friend, sits next to him and is giving him a knowing, exasperated look. “You are making _me_ nervous and I won’t even be on stage!”

Takeru stops making his leg bounce and turns to face her.

“I can’t help it, Kiku!” He moves a hand to adjust his glasses out of habit only to remember he isn’t wearing them, having exchanged them for contact lenses. Right. “I don’t wanna mess it up, it’s my first time performing like this…”

“You are _not_ going to mess it up.” She huffs, throwing her braid over her shoulder and turning around on her chair towards him. “You’ve practiced _tons_ for today. People are going to be left gawking once they hear you play.”

Takeru‘s lips purse in sulky little pout and Kiku rolls her eyes, before softening her expression, moving to bump her shoulder against his. She speaks hushedly, just between them.

“Hey. You are a _really_ good musician, Take. I’ve heard you play since we were _thirteen_ \--If anyone knows how much effort and time you’ve spent working to be here today, it’d be me.” She knocks her forehead to his temple. “And I _know_ how much this means to you, and that it’s scary to make a mistake. But you--” She jabs a finger at his chest. “--got a lot of heart and a lot of guts, and I know even if you are shaking out there, you’ll do your best. Because you are Takeru Homura and you’ve always pushed through even if things got scary or hard.”

She smiles, that reassuring smile of hers. “I believe in you. You are going to do great.”

Takeru blinks, slow, before a tentative smile sets on his face. His hold on his guitar case is no longer a death grip, shoulders relaxing a little. “...Thanks, Kiku.” He bumps her forehead back. She giggles.

“I’m cheering you on, Take. And hey, if you do mess up like, set the scenario in flames by accident? I’ll still support you.”

Takeru laughs then, shaking his head. “Thank you. I’m pretty sure you’d have to get a lawyer if I did, accidentally, _burn the scenario_. I feel I’d have to pay for it and you know I don’t have much to spare.”

Kiku shrugs, waving a hand. “I would break you out of jail myself, no worries.” She makes a gesture like holding a sword, slashing the air with it, frowning. “Any guards in my way would just get a wooden sword to the head!”

Takeru laughs some more, feeling his tension ease. Kiku always knows just how to calm him down.

“Who is calling upon your wrath, Kiku?” A voice speaks up behind Takeru and he and Kiku turn to see Aoi standing there, smiling at them amusedly. Kiku practically jumps out of her chair, starry eyed, and dashes to hug her.

“Aoi ! Baby, you look _beautiful_ tonight!” She pulls back to give Aoi another appraising look while Aoi blushes.

Takeru takes a moment to look over her outfit too; her usually brown hair is hidden behind a long, blue wig, adorned with two hearts on each side atop her head, and she’s wearing a white and blue dress, wings attached at the back, plus gloves that reach a little past her elbows.

It’s her Blue Angel persona she wears to be up on stage. She’s been a regular performer at Cafe Nagi and it’s thanks to her knowing the owner that she got Takeru a spot tonight too. Honestly Takeru owes her big time.

Aoi catches his eye and Takeru grins at her. She’s wearing lilac contact too, he notices. “You look good, Zaizen-san.”

She clears her throat, brushing invisible dust off her dress. “Thank you.” She looks back at him after a moment and smiles, rising an eyebrow. “You do too, Homura-kun. I almost don’t recognize you without the glasses--and with your hair pushed back.”

Takeru rubs the back of his head. “Well, I do have one or two good outfits…” The leather jacket he’s wearing right now was a gift from Kiku, a dark red with flames adorning the back and the sleeves. The black top, the red pants and the boots had all been gifts too. The only things he’s had for as long as he can remember are the red fingerless gloves, but most of good clothes are all gifts, and ones he rarely wears, preferring to default to the same jeans and hoodies to go to class. But tonight is special.

“Try not to steal too many hearts out there, Takeru.” Kiku teases, leaning against Aoi’s side, arms around her waist. Aoi casually slips her arm around her shoulders, nodding along.

Takeru simply rolls his eyes at them before his head snaps up to attention as he hears the band on stage finish their song with a resolute piano chord and the crowd claps for them. He claps, too, because even if he could have been listening more intently, if not for his nerves, they sounded really good.

They watch as the band bows and thanks the crowd before they start picking their instruments, all except for the vertical piano that is owned by the Cafe.

“Blue Angel, we are up soon.” A woman about Aoi’s height with brown hair let loose around her shoulders walks up to them, along with a taller man with grey hair.

Takeru recognizes Miyu, a fellow classmate and Aoi and Kiku’s girlfriend. She leans casually against Aoi’s other side and when she looks up, she seems surprised to see him but she waves and grins at him.

“Oh, Homura-kun! Did you come watch the show?”

“To perform, I’d say.” The grey haired man speaks up, noting the guitar case Takeru has with him. Takeru has never spoken to him but he has seen him in campus too, he thinks.

Takeru nods, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Y-Yeah--”

“That’s great !” Miyu seems _ecstatic_. “I’ve always wanted to hear you play outside of class--Break a leg, Homura-kun!”

“T-Thanks! You too, Miyu-san and um--”

“Call me Spectre.” The man bows his head, smiling lightly. “Blue-san mentioned you, Homura-san.” There’s something about him that Takeru can’t quite decipher, about the way his eyes glint when he looks at him. He can’t tell if it’s curiosity, amusement or mockery. “I look forward to watching you perform.”

“Thank you…”

“Guys, let’s go. Kiku--” Aoi laughs as she tries to disentangle herself from her girlfriend. “Come on--” Kiku squeezes her one last time, pouting, before letting her go.

“Break a leg, babe.” Kiku leans in and presses a quick kiss to Aoi’s lips, smiling. Miyu eyes her with a little grin, tapping her lips in silent request. Kiku giggles, leaning in to kiss her too. “You too hun.”

Takeru averts his gaze for a moment at the open display of affection, feeling like he’s intruding--though Spectre looks perfectly calm, like he’s used to it.

Takeru has long known of Kiku’s relationship with Aoi and Miyu and is used to how openly affectionate his best friend is, but he can’t help feeling a bit like a third, or rather fourth wheel when he hangs out with the three of them. Even when they insist they want him to be around,Takeru wonders if it’s not because he doesn’t have all that many friends around here yet aside from them and Kiku doesn’t want him to be alone.

He meets Aoi’s eye again and flashes her a grin, pumping up a fist. “Break a leg, Zaizen-san!”

She smiles back, lifting up a fist too as she turns to follow Miyu and Spectre to the stage. “Yeah!”

Kiku plops back on the seat next to him, smiling dreamily as they watch the trio go.

“I love those girls _so much_.” She sighs, leaning against his side and Takeru smiles, patting her head.

“Remember how you teased me and said I’d be really embarrassing and mushy if I ever fell in love? Well, _you_ became that person instead.”

“Aw, shut up.” She elbows him a little. “I still stand by what I said-- you are going to write songs about a boy one day and serenade him with them and all that romantic shit. I know this. And I’ll have fun watching you fall.”

Takeru laughs. “Yeah, right--”

He could have said more but the lights dimmed slightly, as the reflector shone on the stage. It lit up around Aoi standing by the microphone and illuminating Spectre--violin in hand--and Miyu, sitting by the piano. There had been murmuring among the customers but they were quiet once more, waiting with bated breath for them to begin.

Takeru doesn’t have to look far to see how big a presence these three have here. He too feels like he’s holding his breath for the song to start.

“We are Blue Angel.” Aoi says into the mic, holding it loosely with a hand. “And we bring you this song tonight.”

She looks at Miyu and she nods, setting her hands over the piano keys and after a minor pause, begins to play, the first notes of the song echoing across the Cafe. Spectre settles his violin on his shoulder to join in,  and Takeru can see Aoi close her eyes as she readies herself too.

A short intake of breath, and she begins to sing. Takeru lets his own breath go, leaning back against the bar as her voice rings clear for all to hear.

 

_“[The faint crimson-painted petals of time ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiMP-YqBXb4)_

[ _Flutters within the light_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiMP-YqBXb4)

_[I should have smiled](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GiMP-YqBXb4)...” _

 

This isn’t the first time Takeru has heard her sing, but every time he does, he can’t look away. She shines brightly under the lights, all eyes on her, her voice a lovely sound that carries a deep emotion with it.

Beside him Kiku is quiet, leaning a little more against his shoulder as she relaxes. He steals a quick look at her and she’s smiling lovingly, eyes fixed on Aoi and Miyu.

 

_“Here are the things that I forgot_

_All of which are the treasures you gave_

_These things that didn't have any form_

_Won't fade through time”_

 

Aoi is amazing, but so are the other two. Miyu’s accompaniment and Spectre’s playing give further life to the song, and each chord and swipe of the violin’s bow over its strings resonates loud in Takeru’s chest. They all sound beautiful, and it wakes up emotions within him.

Miyu always seems different when she’s playing, calm like the water in a lake, focused and poised as her delicate fingers dance through the keys. Spectre’s playing seems precise and elegant, as he stands rooted in his spot on the scenario.

 

_“At the corner of your heart_

_I want to become a shining star…”_

 

Aoi’s voice rises, closing in on the end, and then falls, softer, leaving the piano and the violin to finish. The last notes of the song play and then slowly fade into silence. Takeru’s breath hitches and soon the quiet is broken into applause, one he’s quick to join in.

“ _Wow_.” He mutters and Kiku giggles beside him, but her grin is bright as she turns to him.

“Right? Oh--Take, are you _crying_?”

He blinks, realizing his eyes are a little misty and he quickly rubs at them, face flushing. “N-No--”

“You are a softie.” Kiku coos at him and Takeru huffs, turning away.

“Good music does that to you, shut up.” He had always felt things too strongly. He is always the first to cry in movies, whether it’s sad or happy, and with music, in particular, it rings true. It has a way to pull at his heartstrings like nothing else can.

Kiku refrains from making further comment as the applause dies down and the notes of the next song soon begin to play. Takeru forgets all about being nervous while he listens to them play, completely enraptured.

“They sound good, don’t they?” A man comes to stand next to him and when Takeru looks up he sits up a little straighter.

“Kusanagi-san! Ah, yes! They sound... _incredible_.”

Kusanagi nods, crossing his arms. He’s quiet before he looks down at him, a knowing smile on his face. “Blue Angel thinks you are pretty amazing too. I look forward to listening to you later tonight.”

If anything that makes his nerves come back but Takeru swallows them down and smiles, pumping up a fist and grinning, as confident as he can manage. “I-I’ll do my best ! Thank you, again, for letting me take part tonight, sir.”

Kusanagi laughs, patting Takeru’s back with a little too much force. “Don’t get so formal ! I always welcome new talent around here, it’s good to have you.” He looks towards the stage, smile a little wistful. “When Blue Angel first came along, we were a really small business--well, we still are. But she really helped liven up the place.”

Takeru looks back at Aoi, to the way she’s moving up there with a confidence he almost envies. When he watches her now, she really is an imposing presence, drawing people’s eyes towards her. It’s such a contrast to how she is in campus; she keeps a rather low profile, and seems to pass almost under the radar. It’s like she’s a different person here, on stage, under the lights and among the people that cheer for her.

He admires her, really. Her courage, and her voice, how it carries so crystal clear to everyone here. He wonders if he can shine that way, too.

Kusanagi pats his shoulder. “Well, I’ll catch you later when it’s your turn to be up, kiddo. Have a drink or something in the meantime, hm?” He grins amiably before slipping away again. Takeru sighs.

“Don’t get drunk before it’s your turn.” Kiku advices from his side, even when she’s holding a tall glass of something orange and fruity looking--she must have got it while he wasn’t looking. “You’ll go down as a tipsy performer.”

“I won’t.” He pouts, rocking back and forth on his stool. That’d be way more embarrassing than making a mistake while sober.

* * *

 

They make quiet conversation in between a couple more songs, watching Blue Angel perform and waving at Aoi whenever she catches their eye mid song. She smiles a little wider every time and her eyes crease fondly. Takeru nudges Kiku playfully and gets a jab back for it.

The group closes their final song for the night with another round of applause and a bow to the audience, thanking them for listening. Takeru fails to stifle a laugh when a customer holds out a bouquet of roses for Aoi and her eyes go comically wide, flailing but accepting the gesture with a deep, flustered bow.

They make their way down the stage and back towards the bar. As they come closer Takeru can see their exhaustion but their faces are glowing, too, with the pride of a good performance.

“You guys sounded _amazing_ \--” Takeru begins, ready to go off in a rant, but Kiku is faster than him in jumping off her seat and catching Miyu and Aoi in a hug.

“Uuuuugh I love you, you totally _killed it_! You too, Spectre.” She nods at him over her shoulder and he nods back, chuckling. He meets Takeru’s eyes with a tilt of his head and Takeru’s face brightens, walking up to the other man with a comment at the ready.

“Spectre-san, your playing is _beautiful_!” He begins, and Spectre seems taken aback by the sudden closeness, eyes wide. Takeru goes on. “Like--intense ! And--And--” He starts making vague gestures with his hands before blurting out. “It--It really got to my heart!”

Spectre is quiet, blinking down at him before he suddenly laughs, loud and clear, and unlike before, Takeru can tell it’s genuine. He shrinks a little, feeling bashful.

“Thank you.” Spectre shakes his head, patting Takeru’s shoulder. “I rarely get  such enthusiastic responses.” He seems glad, somehow. He pushes a little at Takeru’s back, gesturing them towards the bar again.

“But, I’m also exhausted and could definitely use a drink. Care to join me?” He gestures back to where Kiku is squeezing Miyu and Aoi, a muffled conversation going on between them. “I suspect my band mates and your friend will be busy for a while.”

Takeru huffs out a laugh. Yeah, Kiku is definitely gonna keep them busy.

“I should probably not drink yet, though.” He says as they settle over by the bar. “It’d be embarrassing if I was drunk on my first performance.”

“Truly.” Spectre nods. “I’d like to see you perform your best, Homura-san. Blue-san said you were quite good.”

Takeru whines, slouching over the bar. He hears Spectre order his drink before he speaks against his arms, muffled. “She set too high standards for me...I’m going to blow this.”

Spectre scoffs. “Is that all the confidence you have as an artist?” At Takeru’s confused grunt, he goes on. “If Blue-san, a quite skilled singer as you know, is giving you such high praise, shouldn’t you be more confident?”

Takeru pauses to think about it. He hears the click of a drink being set on the table and Spectre’s quiet thank you to the bartender.

“I guess.” He settles on, lifting his head up at last. “It’s not that I don’t think my music is good. I just--” He fiddles with the pendant hanging off his neck. “--It’s my first performance in a stage. I... I saw you and Miyu-san playing and Zaizen-san singing and could only think of how _bright_ you all looked. It’s like the stage was _made_ for you.” He grips the pendant, staring down at the table. “ _I want that_. Maybe it’s naive and ambitious to think the first time I perform will be grand and spectacular--But I want to at least leave a mark up there.”

Spectre sips his drink, a blue liquid in a cocktail glass. Takeru realizes he had been rambling and quickly adds. “Ah, sorry that--that must sound arrogant of me--”

“Ambition is not bad. If not for it, you wouldn’t be here tonight, right?” Spectre says, cutting him off. “But the stage wasn’t _made_ for _anyone_ , Homura-san.” He takes another sip, letting his words sink in, before he gives Takeru a sideways, sly look. “ _We_ made it our own. And you--” He gestures at him with his drink. “Have to do that too. Prove that you have what it takes to stand up there. Whether you succeed tonight, or tomorrow--” He tilts his head, his smile back to its undecipherable nature. “Well, I suppose we will find out soon, hm?”

Takeru swallows. He lets out a flustered laugh, scratching his nose. “I--I guess you are right.”

Spectre shrugs. “Stressing over the result won’t lead you anywhere. Just focus on what you will do once you are standing on stage.”

Takeru guesses that’s Spectre’s way to tell him that he should forget about being nervous and just do what he can. He’s not terrible comforted, given the expectations he feels on his shoulders, but he’ll take it.

* * *

Other acts keep coming and going. They occasionally stop to listen or watch, but Takeru stops paying less and less attention the closer he knows he is to his turn. Spectre takes some pity on him and tries to make some conversation: what classes he’s taking, how odd it is they never shared any, “Homura-san, did you use to be a delinquent in school?”.

Takeru sputters at the question, eyes widening. “Wha--What? How--”

Spectre laughs, waving a dismissing hand. “I’m joking, joking. You were distracted so I thought that would get you to react--Did I guess right?”

Takeru clears his throat, scowling. “I _wasn’t_ a delinquent. People assumed I was.” It’s not something he wants to get into right now, frankly.

“Hmm…” Spectre hums, giving him a curious look that says he’s tempted to push Takeru’s buttons to find out. “Why is that?”

Takeru fiddles with his pendant, frowning. “Hell if I know.” It’s a lie. There’s many reasons why people assumed that.

“My guess--” Spectre begins, lifting up his glass. “--is that you were the typical kid that would skip school, and people thought you would get into shady business in the alleyways in town. But really, you were just on the side of the road petting stray cats, shielding them with your umbrella when it rained…And only your childhood friend knew of your soft side, standing by you till the bitter end--”

Takeru snorts, shoulders shaking a little. “What is this, a _Shoujo manga_?” He rests his cheek on his clenched fist, arching an eyebrow at Spectre. “I didn’t take you for the romantic type.”

Spectre sips the last of his drink, setting it down. “But was I _right_?”

“...” He isn’t that far off, actually. “There was no stray cat petting involved.” He admits, huffing. “Most of them didn’t like me much. The only cat that seems to like me is the one I adopted when I moved here." Flame is a purry, clingy beast that loves when Takeru showers him with affection and so far, the only animal that seems to genuinely like him.

“Ah, but I was close, then.” He seems pleased but not mocking, strangely. His fingers tap on the base of the cocktail glass. “People will just assume what they want, won’t they?”

“...Yeah.” He looks away for a moment, to the stage where a magic act seems to be going on now--he thought this place only had musicians to perform but he has started to see there’s different talents that come here. “Did--” He begins, then shakes his head. It’s not his place to pry.

“‘Did something like that happen to you, too?’ is what you want to ask?” Spectre echoes his thoughts and Takeru hunches his shoulders. “It’s alright. I did pry first.” He’s silent, and Takeru glances back at him to see him staring at his empty cup with an unreadable look. “No one thought I was a delinquent. But I suppose other kids always thought I was weird. When you are different from the norm--people love to talk. And push what they don’t understand _away_.”

Takeru swings his legs a little back and forth. “Why did they think you were weird?”

Spectre hums, quiet again. He seems like he’s debating if he should answer or not. “I was never really social, or had many friends. But I liked to take care of plants and talk to them. People always found it unnerving when they caught me talking alone.” The surprise must show in his face because Spectre chuckles. “You find it weird, too?”

“N-No, no!” He waved his hands frantically in front of him. “I--I heard talking to plants helps them grow? You must really care for them.”

“I do.” He admits. “Plants are good company. They don’t judge you, they don’t demand anything of you. I much prefer to be around them than people--” He blinks, looking at something on his other side. Takeru catches something change in his tone, almost fond. “But...well, I found people who aren’t so bad to be around.”

Takeru opens his mouth to reply but he catches movement from where Spectre is looking and glances over to see a tall, white haired man approach them. He looks elegant in his dress shirt and fitting pants as he walks up to Spectre, but also a little... _wobbly_ in his step.

“Ryoken.” Spectre says to the stranger--Ryoken? “You’re drunk.”

“Shut up.” Ryoken protests, voice slurry. “I had _one glass._ Kiyoko can testify for me.”

“Kiyoko-san would not have let you have even a glass.” Spectre sighs, standing up. He tilts his head towards Takeru, smiling amiable. “I apologize, Homura-san, I must cut our conversation here. I have a drunk man to take care of--make sure he doesn’t try to drink more.”

“That’s fine--” Takeru eyes the other man, who’s looking at him with confusion. _Drunk, from just one glass?_ He’s worse than Takeru.

“Perhaps we can talk some more after your performance.” He hooks his arm around Ryoken’s, to pull him away. He waves at Takeru. “Break a leg.”

“Y-Yeah, thank you…” He waves at them as they walk to the back of the Cafe. Takeru glances around; Kiku, Aoi and Miyu are nowhere to be found, but frankly, Takeru has an idea of what they might be up to. He doesn’t want to interrupt.

* * *

He sits by himself, watching the act change yet again. A short man with long green hair--Brave Max, as he presents himself--begins rambling away on stage, and telling jokes Takeru doesn’t really pay much attention to. Kusanagi drops by quickly to let him know he’s up after Brave Max and he turns away from the stage, slumping back against the bar with a groan. He can already feel the cold sweat setting in.

Maybe he should triple check again his guitar is well tuned. Something to keep him busy.

“Need a drink?”

He blinks up, looking for the source of the low voice. The bartender, a man with blue and pink bangs and a deadpan expression, is standing near him on the other side of the counter, idly drying a glass with a cloth, not looking at him. Takeru turns his head to both sides before speaking up.

“Uh--Did you ask me?”

“Do you see anyone else moping on the counter?” The bartender side eyes him, and Takeru cheeks redden, running a hand through his slicked back hair.

“I--I’m not moping. And, thanks, but I should probably not drink alcohol.”

The bartender stares at him a moment longer before walking away. Takeru sighs, slumping back against the counter. It isn’t long before he sees a glass being set next to him and he blinks at it, then at the bartender.

“But I--”

“It’s not alcohol.”

Takeru frowns, eyeing the drink dubiously before taking a tentative sip. Ah. He snorts.

“Lemon and honey water?”

The bartender shrugs. “Good for the throat.”

Takeru laughs, shaking his head. “That’s--” _Unnecessary_ , he almost wants to say, but only now does he realize how dry his throat really is, after all the talking he’s done tonight. He meets the bartender’s eyes--green, he notes--and smiles. “...Thanks. How much--”

The man shakes his head, grabbing another clean glass to dry. “No need. Kusanagi-san told me to give you at least one drink on the house, since you will be performing.”

“Oh.” Takeru looks down at his glass, turning it around his hands. “Well, thanks, again--” He glances at the man for a name tag and tilts his head. “--Play...maker?”

The bartender merely hums. Takeru stares, confused, which eventually makes the other look his way. “What?”

“No--just--that’s not the name I expected to see.”

“It’s not my real name. Obviously.” He says it like it’s something anyone here would know, but Takeru doesn’t understand why he’s using a fake name when he’s, well, _the bartender._ The confusion must show in his face because the man goes on. “No one working here uses their real name to the customers. Except Kusanagi-san, since he’s the owner. The woman you called Miyu is known as Aqua here. Spectre is also just a performer’s name.” He gestures to the stage, to the stand-up man. “Brave Max is not his real name either. I assume you guessed that one by now.”

Takeru gapes. “I…didn’t know that.” Maybe he should have realized that when everyone kept addressing each other by stage names--but he thought that was a habit they had not some sort of rule to this place. He pauses for several seconds. Then-- “Wait, does that mean _I_ should come up with a name too?!”

Playmaker tilts his head. “I thought Kusanagi-san told you.” When Takeru shakes his head, he sighs. “Maybe he assumed Blue Angel told you.” Again, Takeru shakes his head and the bartender is looking thoroughly unamused with them all, muttering something Takeru doesn’t catch before speaking up again. “Then yes. You should think of something.”

Takeru whines, taking a long sip of his drink. “Maybe I should just use my cat’s name. Flame is a cool name.”

Playmaker snorts. Takeru pouts. “You have a better idea, _Maker of Plays_?”

“That’s me.” There’s something he’s not saying, but he doesn’t go further on it. Instead he pauses, thoughtful. His silence goes on for so long Takeru gives up on an answer and keeps sipping his drink, trying to come up with a name that isn’t too embarrassing.

“Why do you play?”

The question catches him off guard, and makes Takeru snap his head up. Playmaker is staring at him, and Takeru swallows under his watchful gaze. It’s too personal a question. One he can’t answer so simply, specially to someone he just met.

“I…”

“Sorry.” Possibly sensing his hesitation, the man averts his gaze, shaking his head. “That might be too personal. You don’t have to answer.”

“No--I mean, it is, but…” It’s not a question he has answered out loud to anyone, except perhaps to Kiku once upon a time. She knows him better than anyone, why he started playing, what music means in his life.

Maybe it’s the fact he barely knows Playmaker, and the man barely knows him too, or the fact that he needs to remind himself the why by saying it. Why he’s here tonight.

“I started to play for me.” He begins, steadying himself with a breath. “Music helped me express what I was feeling in a really hard time in my life. Now, though, I--I guess I play because I have feelings I want to transmit, words I _need_ to sing, for others to hear. I want them to listen.” His eyes are determined, glancing up and finding the bartender’s eyes on him again. “I want my music to touch someone’s heart, too.”

Playmaker’s eyes widen a small fraction, almost imperceptible. They end locked in a silent stare down, which makes the heat creep up Takeru’s neck up to his ears and he ends up looking down at his glass.

“Is that too cheesy? You can laugh at me.”

“No.” Playmaker rests a hand on the bar, voice soft. “I was just wondering why you have been doubting yourself all night, when you have more than fair reasons to be here.” Takeru tentatively lifts his head, noticing the man is leaning over the counter, eyes fixed on him. Takeru can’t look away, as the man lifts his other hand and points at where his heart would be.

“Soulburner.” The man’s lips pull up in a very faint smile. “How does that sound for a name?”

Takeru blinks. “Oh.” He scrunches up his brow, repeating the name in his head. “Really, _Burner of Souls_?”

Playmaker pulls his hand back, standing back up straight and shrugging. “You are wearing a jacket with flames on it. I think it would suit you.”

“Ah, you noticed those?” He pauses, before nodding, resolute. “It has a nice ring to it.” He grins up at the bartender. “I like it. Thanks, Playmaker.”

“Don’t mention it.” He’s already back at drying more glasses, but he adds. “That name means nothing if you don’t make it your own.”

Takeru finishes his glass, putting it away. “Then, how did you get your name? What do you _play_?”

Playmaker rises his head, to answer him perhaps, but his eyes light up in recognition at something behind Takeru. He shakes his head.

“Later.”

Just then Kusanagi reappears, clapping him in the shoulder. “Yo, Brave Max is about to finish his set, get ready kiddo!”

“Ah, yes!” Takeru practically stumbles out of his seat, picking up his guitar case. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, turning his head to Playmaker. “Then, uh, I’m off I guess!”

Playmaker flashes him a thumbs up. “Go get them, Soulburner.” A smirk. “Please don’t set our stage on fire.”

Takeru splutters. _How many of his conversations had this man listened to?_ “W-Will do!”

He walks away from the bar, flustered, but surprisingly...light. On his way to the edge of the stage he bumps into Aoi and the girls and they all flash him encouraging smiles.

Brave Max catches him on his way too, having come down from his act. “Oh, you are the new kid!” He pats him enthusiastically on the back, with a big grin. “Good luck, good luck ! I warmed up the stage for ya!”

Takeru merely laughs and thanks him, going on his way. He seems like an intense kind of guy.

“We have one final, new artist for you tonight.” Kusanagi is saying on the mic, side eyeing him with a smile. “But I’ll leave him to introduce himself. Keep enjoying your night!”

This is it.

Takeru takes a deep breath, and steps into the stage. Suddenly It’s just him, the lights and his racing heart thrumming in his ears. His hands tremble imperceptibly and he grips his guitar a little tighter as he takes it out of its case, putting the guitar’s strap over one shoulder.

He’s a mix of nerves and excitement, finally standing here, in front of people he mostly doesn’t know. If he looks for them he knows his friends are watching, and when he looks at the bar, he can see the mop of color that is the bartender’s hair as he moves to serve more drinks. Knowing Playmaker is listening is oddly calming in that moment, though.

 _Why do you play?_ Takeru smiles.

If this moment touches at least one of these people’s souls, hearts, it will be enough. If he can shine for just a moment, he’ll be satisfied.

“Um--” He starts, tapping the mic a little. “I want to thank you all for being here.” He feels a little silly, because none of this people know him and clearly aren’t here _for_ him, but he still thinks it’s important to start on a good note. “And, well--I wasn’t sure what song to bring for you, at first--” He meets Kiku’s eye, sitting by the bar and grins. “--But I settled on a song that’s important to me. I hope--I hope you will like it.”

He’s getting into position to play, fingers ready, when he remembers he hasn’t actually introduced himself. He speaks again into the mike, voice unexpectedly calm. His eyes find Playmaker’s for a moment.

“My name is Soulburner.” He strums his guitar once.  It echoes in the quiet, any leftover murmurs stopping, everyone’s eyes on him. He smirks.

“And I’m here to set your hearts on fire.”

He can almost _hear_ Kiku thinking how cheesy a line that was all the way from the bar, but Takeru doesn’t  care; it’s a cool entry line and he is rolling with it.

Discarding all his hesitation, his fingers begin to move, singing along to the entry lyrics of a song he knows by heart.

 

[ _"I'm truly happy to have met you,_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASKrvMcivzY)

[ _Yet, as it follows naturally, it’s all so sad_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASKrvMcivzY)

[ _Now, with painfully happy memories_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASKrvMcivzY)

[ _I walk on toward the inevitable farewell..."_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASKrvMcivzY)

 

After the words leave his mouth, it’s easier. He doesn’t forget the audience he’s singing to, but he finds he can focus solely on singing and playing, putting himself bare in every note, every lyric.

 

_"What I want is just for you to hear all of my thoughts_

_Yet I lie and say I have secrets I can’t tell anyone--"_

 

His Grandparents and Kiku have always said he’s rather transparent, as a person, and he thinks it really shows in his music. He doesn’t hide anything here.

This is one of those songs he’s sang for a long time. Memories of the first time he found this song, written in an old, worn out notebook at home with his mother’s faded writing come back to him. He remembers the first time he sang it, failing miserably; he remembers singing it with Kiku, at the pier in their hometown, her voice joining his in harmony.

 

_"As much as I vow, as much as I pray, I have miserable dreams_

_Where little distortions some days gulp you up for good--"_

 

The words echo with something inside him, even now, even when he hadn’t written them. These words are not his own but he gave them meaning, for him to sing them.

He doesn’t dare glance over the faces in the audience, not now, not yet, but he does look over to where Kiku’s sitting by the bar and emotions wells up on him at her smile, a smile that says she remembers it and the moments they shared because of it.

He’s sure, if not for her, he wouldn’t have got through a lot of things growing up.

His eyes meet Aoi’s and Miyu’s eyes, for a short moment, and they are smiling too. He could have stopped looking then and there, but his gaze travels over behind the counter and he’s almost startled to find Playmaker’s eyes intently fixed on him.

 

_"What can I possibly do?_

_Is it alright if I call your name?"_

 

He wonders what Playmaker’s real name is, for a short second, but he can’t focus on that right now, or in trying to decipher Playmaker’s unreadable expression or the look in his eyes.

He has a song to finish.

His foot lightly taps the floor in tandem with the song as he strums his guitar, getting ready for the next set of lyrics.  He wonders if the closeness he feels to this song overflows in his voice right now, charged with emotion. He closes his eyes, breathing the words out and letting them reverberate across the bar.

 

_"Everything before me seems to blur and dissolve_

_A flood of miracles wouldn’t be enough_

_Because you called my name_

_Is it alright if I call your name?"_

 

He finishes with one last strum of the strings and then, silence, so quiet that you could feel a pin drop, or the way his heart beats fast in his chest.

He takes a deep breath, opening his eyes. The reflector light is a little blinding but he’s more dazzled by the sudden roar of applause that breaks the silence. There’s whistling too, and Takeru doesn’t have to look far to know that’s Kiku; she’s on her feet, beaming at him, and shaking Aoi next to her who’s clapping and flashing him a grin too. Miyu’s clapping with her hands up in the air and yelling something Takeru can’t catch.

When he looks over the bar he’s a surprised by the small pang of disappointment that hits him when he sees that Playmaker isn’t looking at him, busy making a drink for a customer, but it doesn’t deter the wide grin he flashes the audience, bowing in appreciation.

He’s lost for a moment by the shouts of _‘Encore!’_  of the crowd but a quick look at Kusanagi and his nod of approval is all he needs for his eyes to glint with determination, getting ready again.

The show’s not over yet!

 

* * *

 

He sings two more songs that night, closing the show night with a _bang_.

And by bang he means he tripped on his own feet on his way down the stage and, to save his precious guitar, he held it over head and fell face first against the floor. He heard a couple of winces from people but he got up quickly, laughing in embarrassment and shouting _‘’I’m fine !’._

Kiku almost tackles him to the floor when he gets back to the bar, squeezing him in her arms.

“K-Kiku--can’t breathe--” He wheezes and she lets go, hands holding onto his arms and face bright as she looks up at him.

“Take you were amazing ! Aoi had to stop me from getting on a stool to cheer you on !”

“It’s true.” Aoi nods from her side, and gives Takeru a pat on the shoulder. “You sounded lovely--” A smirk. “ _Soulburner_.”

“You definitely set some hearts on fire--” Miyu bounces on Kiku’s other side, lightly and playfully punching his arm. Takeru winces from the surprise still. “You were cool !”

Takeru laughs and blushes under their praise, a little overwhelmed. “Aw, jeez you guys ! Thank you--”

“And you were acting like a scared puppy, earlier.” Spectre’s voice is unmistakable, joking, as he passes by them with the man from earlier--Ryoken--hanging off his side. Spectre nods at Takeru, his smile pleased. “You did not disappoint, Soulburner.” There’s something teasing in his eyes as they crease. “Though, I have to say, that fall at the end was _spectacular._ ”

Takeru rubs at his nose, surely red from the fall and glares half halterdly at Spectre. “ _Thanks._ ”

“You’re welcome.” He nudges Ryoken next to him, who simply grunts. Spectre sighs. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to take this drunk home.” He nods at the girls, and then at Takeru. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“Good luck.” Aoi offers as a good bye before Spectre disappears out the door. When she turns back to Takeru she gasps. “Your nose is bleeding.”

“Huh?” He checks his glove and it is, effectively, drenched with a little blood. Kiku, ever so gentle, tugs his head back sharply and drags him to sit on a stool.

“Don’t move ! Excuse me, can I get some tissues? And ice.”  

Takeru can’t see very well with his head tipped back but he can see Playmaker moving behind the bar and arriving back with paper towels and a cloth wrapped in ice.

“Nice fall, Soulburner.” He deadpans and Takeru groans, a little muffled as Kiku wipes his nose with the paper towel. He’s embarrassed people saw that.

“I’m scared people will only remember me by my fall tonight.” He takes the ice packet Kiku offers him and presses it to his face.

“It _was_ quite the fall--” Kusanagi leans against the bar in front of him, sounding amused, but there’s something else too. “But I think quite a few will remember your voice. Blue Angel wasn’t lying. You are pretty great, kiddo !” He gives Takeru an enthusiastic pat on the back. “Wanna play here again some other night?”

Takeru’s eyes widen, and he almost drops the ice as he sits forward on the stool. “R-Really?! I-Is that--”

“Yeah! I like your style. I want to hear you up there again--How does that sound?”

Takeru can’t believe it. A chance to sing in front of the audience here. He almost hears his neck crack from his eagerly he nods. “Definitely I--I’d love to !”

“Great ! We’ll be in contact.” He turns to Playmaker as he pushes away from the bar. “We are closing soon, you can go change if you want to.”

Takeru looks around at hearing that--he’s surprised to see that a lot of people had already filtered out, very few remaining. The night really flew by.

“In a minute.” Playmaker doesn’t seem in a hurry to leave and Kusanagi leaves again through the back.

Miyu and Aoi disappeared off somewhere--to change probably--so that leaves him with just Kiku again.

“Sooo….Soulburner, huh.” Her grin is full of mirth next to him. “Here to set our hearts on fire.”

Takeru kicks her a little from his stool and she giggles at his blush. “Shut up. It--It sounded cool in the moment.”

“Cheesy. You’re cheeeeesy.” She laughs, shaking her head. She leans her cheek on her hand, gazing at him fondly. “But I guess you are pretty cool too, fireboy. I wasn’t expecting you to sing that song at the beginning.”

“I thought it’d be a good way to start things up.”

“It was. I really like that one.”

“Me too.” They share a smile in silence for a moment. Takeru feels warm at her support, for sticking with him tonight, even when he knows Kiku would say she wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Kiku, we are ready.” Aoi and Miyu reappear, in casual clothes, Aoi’s blue wig and contacts gone and leaving her brown hair and eyes in view. Kiku hops off the stool.

“Will you be fine going home on your own?” She asks and Takeru snorts, putting the ice pack aside.

“Kiku, I’m twenty three, I think I’ll manage.”

Kiku puffs her cheeks and traps him in a headlock, ruffling up his hair. “You got lost just the other day, don’t you get smart with me !”

“Agh, I got it, I got it ! I promise, I know the way back. I’ll text you when I’m home.” He pats her arm until she lets go, satisfied.

“You better!” She messes up his hair a bit more for good measure and presses a kiss to his forehead, speaking quietly. “I’m really proud of you, Takeru. Good job today.”

Takeru’s face softens, reaching for her hand and squeezing it once. “Thanks, Kiku.”

She draws back and walks over to Miyu and Aoi, hooking one arm around each of theirs. “See ya Take!”

“Be careful on your way home!” He waves at the three of them, Aoi and Miyu waving back, before they saunter off, talking among themselves. Takeru sighs. He should probably head home, too.

“Nice work.” A glass is set in from of him and Takeru glances at it before looking up at Playmaker with confusion.

“Oh, thanks--But, um, I didn’t--”

“On the house.” He cuts in. “For a performance well done.”

Takeru’s lips curve up in a smile, accepting the drink. The glass is cool against his fingers. “You liked it?”

Playmaker is quiet, and Takeru uses the time to drink from his glass. He can taste cherry in his mouth but there’s also the obvious flavor of alcohol. It burns a little on the way down, but Takeru rather likes it. He downs half a glass before he realizes; he _is_ thirsty after performing and his nerves were finally settling down, leaving room for exhaustion.

He almost forgets he asked a question until Playmaker answers, though not in the way Takeru expected.

“Soulburner is definitely a fitting name for you, after all.”

It’s not really a direct answer. He chuckles, smirking at the bartender. Takeru’s mind is buzzing, from the show and the emotions of the night, so he ends up blurting out the first thought that comes to mind.

“Are you saying I set _your_ heart on fire?”

A beat passes, like a sharp staccato in a piano, before Takeru realizes his words and the nerves settle back in like a punch to the gut. Playmaker is staring back at him with wide eyes. ‘ _What did I just ask? Did I imply something with that, oh god, what if i just kinda flirted with him, oh no no no--’_

He downs the rest of his glass in one go, face flushing, and puts it back on the counter almost too eagerly. He can’t look Playmaker in the eyes anymore.

“I-I didn’t--I didn’t mean to uuuuh--” He does what any sensible person would do in an awkward moment like this. He gets off the stool, grabs his guitar and bows his head. “It’s late so I’ll be taking my leave ! Thanks for the drinks !”

He doesn’t wait a response, dashing for the door and going out in the cool night air. It wakes him up enough to realize, as he’s walking, that he’s going the wrong way. He turns on his heel and sets on the right way, trying to calm his anxious heart.

It’s not that big a deal, he tells himself. Maybe Playmaker will think he was just joking with that question. It doesn’t have to be awkward the next time he sees him. He didn’t flirt with him, yeah ! He was just...blurting out stupid questions. He could blame it on the drink. Even if it was just one glass and he wasn’t even drunk.

When he gets home he collapses on the couch and groans against the cushions. He soon feels Flame walking on his back, rubbing his furry head against his head and trying to get his attention.

Takeru turns around, coming face to face with the cat. He meows, butting his head against his chin and Takeru laughs.

“Hey there.” He strokes that cat’s back, feeling calmer and calmer by the repetitive motion as the seconds tick by. Flame curls himself in his chest and stays there, content that Takeru is home and is giving him attention.

“It was a long night, Flame.” Takeru muses out loud. “I...think I was pretty good out there. Kiku was so happy--” Oh right, he hasn’t texted her yet. He swipes his phone from his back pocket with some difficulty before flipping it open--yes, he has a flip phone, it’s old and easy to use--and sends her a text.

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : i’m home 8) did you get back safe?

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : yep ! we all did <3

how u feeling?

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : tired….happy...embarrassed????

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : lol from the fall?

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : yeah but uh

i think i accidentally flirted with the bartender

 

 **cookiekiku🌸:** ??!?!?!?!?! TAKERU HOMURA

YOU FLIRTED WITH A BOY??????

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : ASKDJASKJL I DON’T KNOW????????

 I ASKED A DUMB THING THAT COULD MAYBE COUNT AS FLIRTING

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : SCREAMS

what did u ask him

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : i

i asked him if. i set his heart on fire

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : KADSJKLASJKLSDJKL

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : WITH THE PERFORMANCE

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : AND THEN???

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : I RAN

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : **_TAKERU_ **

SMOOTH CRIMINAL, WHAT DO U MEAN U RAN !!!!

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : SHUT UP i totally made that awkward ;A; he was so nice too, he gave me another drink on the house and i totally messed it up he’s not gonna look me in the eye next time

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : omfg takeru

 are u breathing, breathe

you didn’t mess anything up, you didn’t even stay to know what he would say !!

maybe his heart WAS set on fire :3c

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** kiku……

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : okay okay, but, really, it’s gonna be fine. just play it cool next time you see him and you can both laugh about it !

 but also……………...bartender man IS cute, i approve

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** KIKU

i just met him i didn’t want to flirt with him right away

 

 **cookiekiku🌸:** so u are telling me that u would have flirted with him...later? :3c

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** that’s not what i said 8T

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : okay but answer me this. do YOU think he’s cute

 

Takeru stops to think about that. He thinks about green eyes, staring back at him, a finger pointing to his chest and his a low voice speaking to him. He thinks of that faint smile he showed him, for an instant.

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : …………………… maybe

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : take are you blushing

 

_He is._

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** i’m not !!!

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : you’re adorable <3

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : 8T 8T 8T

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : <3 it’s gonna be fine take

 

Takeru sighs. Yeah. Yeah, it will, right? Maybe by the next time he sees Playmaker, he will have forgot about it and they can move past it. Yeah !

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** thanks kiku

 for coming tonight, too...for everything

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : aww u are getting mushy with me <3 it’s never trouble u know this

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : still, thanks <3

 

His eyes are getting heavy, the exhaustion making itself present again. He should probably get up and change.

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** i’m going to bed

good night kiku !

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : sleep well flaming guitarrist !

 

 **flaming guitar🎸:** lol are you gonna start giving me fire nicknames ? again?

 

 **cookiekiku🌸** : you KNOW i am ;)

 lol night !! <3

 

 **flaming guitar🎸** : night <3

 

He lets his phone drop on the low table next to the sofa and sighs, eyes closing. He’s too tired to get up and Flame is already asleep on his chest. Takeru doesn’t have the heart to move and wake him up, even when he knows his neck will hurt tomorrow from the lack of pillow behind his head.

As sleep begins to take him, he drowsily recalls tonight’s events. Blue Angel’s performance. Talking with Spectre. Kiku’s radiant smiles. Playmaker’s voice.

_‘Soulburner’._

Just before he loses consciousness, his last thought is that Playmaker never told him the meaning of his name.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also at
> 
> moonlights0nata on tumblr  
> @moons0nata (main) and @pocketwriting (wips/ideas) on twitter


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